<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Build-A-Beast (The Creative Creature Remix) by Redrikki</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26377669">Build-A-Beast (The Creative Creature Remix)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki'>Redrikki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Remix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:08:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26377669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite what Batman thought, Harley didn’t take the Create-A-Critter job for Mr. Jay. No, she took it for her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pamela Isley &amp; Harleen Quinzel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Remix Revival 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Build-A-Beast (The Creative Creature Remix)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts">FleetSparrow</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/16464674">Build-A-Beast</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow">FleetSparrow</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite what Batman thought, Harley didn’t take the Create-A-Critter job for Mr. Jay. The two of them were done. Over. Finished. Kaput. No, she took the Create-A-Critter job for her, and not just because she needed the paycheck. The whole concept was like magic when you thought about it. They took these empty husks, see, and filled them up with love and stuffing until they were real enough to hug and squeeze and make you happy. It was like some kind of rebirth. After Arkham and the break up, Harley figured she could use a bit of that.</p><p>The Smilex wasn’t about her Puddin’ either. It just sort of happened.</p><p>For the most part, everyone who came into the store was as happy as a clam. Who wouldn’t be? Normally, it was smiles all around: excited ones on the kids and indulgent ones on Mom and Dad. Then some tweenage punk with crossed arms and a petulant little frown came along and spoiled it.</p><p>“Why do we always have to do this stupid kid stuff?” He practically hurled the words at his little  brother like the kid should be ashamed of being five. Ugh, thirteen-year-olds were the worst, so busy playing grown up they ended up just acting like jerks.</p><p>The little brother’s sunshine smile dimmed and Mom’s expression turned thunderous. “This is a family activity, young man, and we will do it is a family.”</p><p>“How about the T-rex?” Harley jumped in before it could get worse. “I know <i>you’re</i> too old to play with it, but it makes a great gag gift. Roars and everything.”</p><p>Mom raised a pointed eyebrow. </p><p>“Fine,” the kid huffed and let Harley lead him over to the stuffing station.</p><p>“Why don’t you get started stuffing and I’ll go get the sound box. Be sure to leave space for it!”</p><p>Harley didn’t have to use the personal stash she kept in her purse for whenever she needed a pick-me-up. She didn’t need to be that generous, but she really did want to help him. So she did. Just a little Smilex in the sound box and he’d get a nice attitude adjustment in every squeeze. What more could a boy ask for? The whole family left smiling.</p>
<hr/><p>Her co-workers were all sunshine and rainbows on the sales floor, but dead-eyed cynics in the break room. </p><p>“Ugh, I think I’m getting Smile Mask Syndrome,” Loni complained, rubbing her face like her cheeks hurt. </p><p>Loni was the sort of Wikipedia psychologist who thought that emotional labor was pouring your everything into your ungrateful blackhole of a boyfriend, and not some emotion you were paid to perform. Hookers faking orgasms was emotional labor. Fast food workers pretending they weren’t thirty seconds from murdering everyone was emotional labor. Making kids happy shouldn’t be.</p><p>The break room had one of those plug-in air fresheners. A little few drops of Smilex went a long way.</p>
<hr/><p>From there, things just sort of snowballed.</p><p>Kid’s first day of chemo? Smilex. Birthday girl crying cause she wanted to? Smilex. Nervous about summer camp? Getting bullied? Dr. Harley had the cure for what ailed you and everyone left smiling. Hurrah for experimental psychoactive pharmaceuticals!</p>
<hr/><p>“You’re going to get caught,” Ivy said as she watched Harley mix up the latest batch of Smilex in their tiny apartment kitchen. </p><p>“Aw, come on Red. Don’t be such a gloomy gus,” Harley said as she swirled the crystals in her beaker to help them dissolve faster. After years of crime with her Puddin’ it felt good to get back to actually helping people. Everyone deserved to be happy and she was making it possible. This was what she’d gotten that degree in psychiatry for. “No one knows I work there, and besides, I’m helping people.” </p><p>“By drugging them?” Ivy raised a sardonic eyebrow.</p><p>“Some people just need to smile more.”</p><p>“I’ve killed men for telling me that.”</p><p>Yeah, and it had practically been a public service, but it was different when Harley said it. Her Smilex wasn’t about conforming to some patriarchal bullshit, it was about making folks happy. And wasn’t life just better when everyone was happy? She put a few drops of her latest batch in Ivy’s morning tea. To help, of course. Ivy just looked so pretty when she smiled.</p>
<hr/><p>“Harley?” A strangely familiar voice asked as she wrapped up her usual welcoming spiel. </p><p>She blinked at the handsome man in front of her until his face resolved into— “Dick Grayson? What are the odds?” </p><p>Of all the stuffed animal joints in all the world, he walked into hers. She hadn’t seen him since the last time she’d kidnapped him. How long ago had that been? Practically ages. Next to him was a little boy who looked like Bruce Wayne in miniature, only without Brucie’s vapid smile. </p><p>“And who’s this?” she asked, beaming down at him. “Your nephew?”</p><p>“This is my brother, Damian,” Dick said, clapping his hand on the kid’s shoulder.</p><p>The boy shrugged his hand off with a frown. Such a sourpuss! Harley shook her head. What did the son of a billionaire have to look so pissy about? Even Robin wasn’t that serious and he fought crime on school nights. Another Smilex case for sure.</p>
<hr/><p>A shadow fell across her as she sat in the break room prepping some sound boxes after hours. Harley closed her eyes with a sigh and set the Smilex down. Leave it to Batsy to ruin everything. “I swear,” she said, turning around, “I’m not doing anything wrong.”</p><p>“You’re putting Smilex in children’s toys,” Batman said, glaring like a big, self-righteous party pooper. “Do you not understand how dangerous that is?”</p><p>“No, see, it’s a new formula!” Who needed Mr. Jay’s deadly old stuff? She was trying to help people! “It just makes you smile.” Harley beamed up at him. “Because kids always need to smile.” Even the Bat had to see that.</p><p>“Harley,” he said darkly. </p><p>She sighed and stood up. There was really no point in fighting it when they’d caught her red handed and all.  “I guess it’s back to Arkham, hu?” Harley asked, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Looked like Ivy was right after all. So much for rebirth.</p>
<hr/><p>Once, people used to tell Harley to smile more. Now, they mostly wanted her to stop. The world just didn’t make any sense sometimes.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>